


Feral Ocean Child

by evilkillerpoptarts



Series: It's Always Midday on Florrum [7]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Podfic Welcome, Slice of Life, Soft Wars fanfic, Star Wars AU - Soft Wars, Star Wars AU-AU - Soft Wars
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:22:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25892812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evilkillerpoptarts/pseuds/evilkillerpoptarts
Summary: The continuing adventures of one Shel'ya Fisto of Nova-Torrent of Vode.Various one-shots of the chaos that follows in this child's wake, as her fathers all quietly hope that maaaaaybe she'll grow out of it.
Relationships: CC-1138 | Bacara/Kit Fisto/CT 7567 | Rex
Series: It's Always Midday on Florrum [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1812385
Comments: 136
Kudos: 214
Collections: Open Source Soft Wars





	1. Pants Before Waffles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Project0506](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Project0506/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shel'ya is not a fan of clothes. Kit can't necessarily fault her for that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shel'ya's approximate age: three

Morning meditation was a balm for the soul. Even after living on Concord Dawn for nearly three years, Kit was continually overwhelmed by just how vibrant and full of life everything was, the Force thrumming happily through it all. He’d discovered it was easier to meditate on the beach these days, if he wanted any peace at all. It was getting late, though, and at the moment it was just himself and Bacara at home, so he knew he needed to head in to help with starting the day. As he approached the house, he could hear Shel’ya yelling before a cerulean blurr charged off the porch and into the nearest tide pool. Kit sighed and changed direction, kneeling next to the pool Shel’ya was sulking in.

“Bad morning?” he asked.

Shel’ya turned a mournful look to him, standing up to better tell her tragic tale of woe. “Hafta wear clothes!” she complained. “Teil said so!” She followed up with a truly dramatic backwards flop.

If he were to stop and think about it, Kit would probably admit that this was largely his fault. If he were to ask his lovers, they’d both emphatically agree that it was _entirely_ his fault.

“If teil said so, why aren’t you wearing any?” Kit wondered. Usually she at least had on her swimsuit; she practically lived in it, once they’d found a purple one that was the same shade as her freckles and the stripes now running along her lekku and shoulders. Today she was naked as the day she was born and likely entirely out of spite.

“Don’t wanna.”

“I completely understand that,” Kit agreed mildly. “But you have to wear something.”

“No!”

Kit hummed, standing back up. “You can make that choice, but you have to stay in the house if you’re not going to put on your swimsuit. You do remember how upset Kix was the last time you got a bad burn, don’t you?”

“...Yes?” Shel’ya hedged, slowly climbing out of the tide pool and walking beside him.

“What do you need to get dressed to do?”

“I dunno,” she admitted.

“It might be worth asking to find out what teil is thinking about doing today, isn’t it? I have to go to the Temple today, so it will be just the two of you. Maybe he was thinking of doing something fun.” Kit enjoyed watching the wheels turn in Shel’ya’s head as she pondered this point. “But if you want to not wear clothes, that’s fine as well, you just have to stay in your room. So go figure out what you’d like to do,” Kit suggested, nudging her in the direction of her room. Shel’ya did an eyeroll so dramatic Kit thought her head might fall off before she stalked into her room and shut the door. A splash followed and Kit sighed.

“This is your fault,” Bacara said conversationally from the kitchen. “The whole no clothes thing. Is definitely your fault.”

“I wear clothes,” Kit protested, heading in and leaning against the counter, grinning at him. Needling Rex and Bacara about clothes was some of his best entertainment.

“You haven’t put on anything other than swim trunks in days.”

“I’m going to the Temple today, I’ll be getting dressed.” One of Bacara’s eyebrows was encroaching on his hairline and Kit kissed him, amused. “What were you planning to do today?”

“At this point? Go to the middle of the ocean, shove her off the boat, let her find her own way home.” Kit almost could’ve bought it, if Bacara wasn’t also dutifully mixing batter for waffles, sliced fruit and a glass of juice already set on the table by Shel’ya’s booster seat.

“Ah, yes, I always make children nutritionally-balanced meals before abandoning them in the middle of the ocean as well,” Kit agreed. Bacara ignored him. The waffle iron beeped that it was done. Bacara flipped it onto a plate and started a second before cutting the fresh waffle up into smaller pieces.

At the sound of the beep, Shel’ya reappeared, at least dressed in her swimsuit this time. She made a beeline for her seat at the table.

“No,” Bacara said sharply, his voice stopping her dead in her tracks, eyes wide at his tone. Kit was startled, too. “If you’re not going to finish getting dressed, you can have cereal.”

“But I want waffles,” Shel’ya protested.

“There’s a new rule. You have to get dressed if you want a fancy breakfast. Otherwise you can have cereal.”

“Pants before waffles?” Shel’ya asked forlornly. Kit quickly smothered a laugh with a cough. His daughter was far too cute for any of their good.

“Yes,” Bacara agreed. “Pants before waffles. Now hurry so you can have waffles while they’re still hot.”

Shel’ya nodded somberly, and soon returned wearing a complete outfit. It did not match in the least and was now damp because so was she, but Bacara seemed to consider it a victory all the same, and rewarded it with waffles.

“You realize that now she’s going to expect waffles every time she puts on pants, right?” Kit asked softly once Shel’ya was happily tucking into her breakfast.

“I will make waffles every single day if it means I don’t have to argue with a toddler.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando'a (JP dialect):
> 
> teil: parent; what Shel'ya calls Bacara
> 
> Nautila:
> 
> Aba: father; what Shel'ya calls Kit
> 
> "Pants before waffles" is a DnD in-joke from Shira that was too funny not to co-opt.


	2. How To Get Out Of Fancy Dress Parties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bacara’s got both hands full and Rex and Kit fail their perception checks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to my general rampant enablers and betas, Wander and Shira!
> 
> Shel’ya: approximately 4 ½ years; cerulean blue with purple vertical stripes on her lekku and shoulders  
> Natua: approximately 5 months; orange with red and gold freckles, only lekku buds at this time

“I have to wear a dress _and_ shoes?” Shel’ya protested from somewhere else in the hotel suite. Bacara, hands full with feeding Natua, whispered a “kot” and tapped his wrist twice. He could hear Kit and Rex both chuckling to themselves and shook his head. Children. He was surrounded by _children._

“Yes, _and_ use silverware for the entire meal,” Sabe’ said in the no-nonsense voice that actually _worked_ on Shel’ya. Hiring Sabe’ as a tutor had been the smartest idea Rex ever had, even though it led to a 27% chance of Domino twins in his house during lessons.

“But Sabe’-”

“Do you remember our agreement?”

“...if I mind all my manners, I can speak only Nautila all night,” Shel’ya dutifully reported in an excellent impression of Sabe’’s voice.

“Unless one of your fathers says otherwise,” Sabe’ agreed. “Do you want to wear any of the jewelry Padme’ sent?”

“Yes!” Shel’ya was soon bouncing around the room, gleefully wearing the _extremely_ sparkly costume jewelry Padme’ had sent along with the dress they’d borrowed from Leia. Despite being several years older, Leia and Shel’ya were very nearly the same size, as Leia was taking after her mother in height and Shel’ya was growing like a very enthusiastic weed. Getting to borrow a dress from her ori’vod had been much easier than taking the child dress shopping, which was a fate worse than death both from Shel’ya’s point of view and everyone else’s.

“Teil! Teil, look, it’s swishy!” Shel’ya bounced into the bedroom where Bacara was feeding her sister. Bacara glanced up.

“Very swishy,” he agreed, watching Shel’ya gleefully spin in the dark blue dress, the matching bracelet and necklace sparkling as the rhinestones caught the lights. The dress was styled like her preferred sundresses, with simple shoulder straps, modest neckline and smocked bodice, but with a much fuller, swishier skirt. It was made of a deep, rich damask fabric. Bacara had been concerned by how easily such a nice fabric would be ruined by a child as messy and unpredictable as Shel’ya, but he’d been quickly assured that it was Naboo-made, making it both machine washable and blaster-proof. Somehow both of those things were reassuring. Kit had switched out her lek wraps for dark blue ones earlier in the day, giving her time to get used to a different fabric covering the vibration sensors. She always complained it was itchy whenever the wraps were switched, but she’d also demanded that her entire outfit matched, so she’d done her best to tolerate it without complaint. Bacara was absurdly proud of her for that. “You look very nice, Shel’ya.”

Shel’ya beamed at the praise and rushed off to show Rex and Kit. “Aba! Buir! Look- eww, gross! No kissing!” She squawked as one of them- most likely Kit- retaliated by scooping her up for kisses instead.

Bacara laughed to himself, smiling down at Natua, who was calmly watching him with wide red eyes the same color as Kit’s. “Surrounded by children,” he repeated wryly.

By far the longest family member to get ready was Natua, and Shel’ya was bouncing from foot to foot in impatience by the time Bacara had finished feeding, diapering and swaddling her. Natua wasn’t thrilled about being swaddled, much more used to having freedom, but Bacara wasn’t risking her sensitive skin being exposed to anything tonight.

“Are you sure you want to bring Natua?” Rex asked.

Kit was busying himself with putting Shel’ya’s shoes on the correct feet, as she’d long since slipped them off once Sabe’ left to get ready in her own hotel rooms, and then switched them when attempting to put them back on herself. He snorted. “And give up a sterling opportunity to use her as an excuse to escape a stuffy event none of us want to attend? Honestly, Rex, I thought you _knew_ him.”

“What Kit said,” Bacara agreed. “Why _are_ we attending?”

Rex sighed. “Because my ori’vod is the Vod’alor and he believes that if he has to suffer, so do the rest of squad Shebse, and their riduur'e,” he grumbled. “And his vod’ade are both too cute to be left at home.”

“I am adorable,” Shel’ya said cheerfully. “Can we go now?”

“One last rule,” Kit said, as he was the one eye-level with her. “What do you have to be doing at all times?”

“Holding someone’s hand,” she reported dutifully. “Or sitting in my chair at the table.”

Kit pressed a kiss to her forehead, smirking as she grumbled and wiped at it. “Perfect answer, my little star. Now we can go down to the party.”

Bacara had the sinking feeling that everything was about to go very, very wrong. If there was a way for Shel’ya to embarrass them in public, she’d find it. As soon as the door was opened Shel’ya was sprinting down the hallway, hand holding rule completely forgotten. Kit sighed and chased after her, scooping her up and carrying her over his arm like a particularly squirmy jacket while he reminded her of All The Rules. She’d given in and was a much better behaved jacket by the time Rex and Bacara caught up.

“Okay, okay, no more running, can I get down now?”

“Absolutely not,” Kit replied stiffly as they waited for the lift. “This hotel is huge and full of people. We aren’t on Concord Dawn, young lady, we are on _Coruscant_ and if I cannot trust you to _walk down a hallway_ without causing a scene…”

Shel’ya let out an aggrieved sigh, hanging limply from his arm. “I’m sorry, I won’t do it again,” she grumbled. Once inside the lift, Kit let her push the button for the correct floor and set her down on her feet, her hand firmly in his. They’d already discussed this; Rex, by virtue of being the Vod’alor’s vod’ika, had to be the most engaged of all of them, and Bacara had immediately claimed Natua, leaving Kit the challenging job of Shel’ya wrangling. Bacara hoped his Jedi senses would give him some sort of an edge but in the four and a half years Shel’ya had been in their care, she’d given all of them the slip plenty of times, both figuratively and literally. There was a _reason_ there was a handle sewn on the back of her swimsuit.

“Aba, can I carry your lightsaber?” Shel’ya wondered. All three adults immediately flinched at the idea.

“No,” Kit replied with more patience than he likely had.

“But it’ll look pretty with my dress.”

“ _Force give me strength,_ ” Kit muttered under his breath. “Perhaps, but you’ve got plenty of sparkly things on, and it’s a bit too large for you. It would get in the way of your swishy skirt.”

“Oh.” Shel’ya nodded seriously. “That would be bad.” She was visibly gearing up for another question as the lift doors opened and they were deposited in a very busy hallway. Kit immediately picked her up, not willing to take the risk of her slipping away in the crowd as they worked their way inside the ridiculously large, opulent ballroom. Natua, who had thus far been quiet, started whining in distress in response to all the noise. Rex tucked his hand into the crook of Bacara’s elbow to guide him while Bacara adjusted her blankets more firmly around her lekku buds to help muffle the sound and settle her.

“Oh no,” Rex groaned, stopping. Bacara glanced up to see what the problem was, and blanched in horror. Kit had also frozen in place.

Taking up an entire wall of the gigantic room was a vast aquarium, full of ornamental fish from various worlds. It was clear on both sides, another section of the ballroom visible on the far side, but it had to be meters thick, displaying a massive swath of coral reef vibrant with life.

“Shel’ya Fisto of Nova-Torrent of Vode,” Kit hissed in an astonishingly aggressive tone, “So help me, if you so much as _look_ at that tank for the rest of the evening, you are grounded for a _month._ ”

“Aba, I wasn’t even _looking_ ,” Shel’ya protested, though her eyes were glued to it.

Bacara had never missed his bucket as much as he did in this moment, visceral _need_ burning through him to demand all eyes on Shel’ya for the rest of the night.

“Rex! There you are!” Ponds materialized out of the crowd, the picture of calm other than the slightly wild desperation around his eyes. He ushered the family over to a table as strategically far away from the tank as possible, with as many vode between the two points as possible. “I’ve cashed in every favor I have on this terrible planet to get as much backup as I can, and am about to start trying to use what Fox has,” he said conversationally as he shoved them along. “Shel’ya, vod’ad’ika, cyar'ika, don’t you have a birthday coming up?”

Shel’ya perked up at that. “Yes, in a couple months!”

“Do you want presents for it?”

“Um… yes?”

“Then you’d better stay out of that thing,” Ponds said severely. “This is an important evening.”

“It looks _boring_ ,” Shel’ya grumbled as she was deposited in a chair. “Oya Vode parties are supposed to be _fun_ , ba’vodu Ponds.”

“They are, back home,” Rex agreed, having a silent conversation with Kit over who should sit where to be the most effective impulse control for Shel’ya. “Sometimes we have to go to less fun parties, it’s part of being a grown-up.”

Shel’ya huffed at that, having zero interest in ever being a grown-up as it was. Bacara sat down beside her, giving her a firm look as he settled into an easily-defensible position. Ponds had managed to finagle a corner for them, and Bacara and Kit boxed her in. It was easily the most comfortable he’d ever felt at a formal event, outside of being in his shell. Not that anyone ever let him attend one in his shell, but a man could dream. He was armed, he had two walls to his back, and he had both children within arm’s reach.

He still knew something was going to go wrong, but at least they’d _tried._

“Here,” Ponds handed Rex earcomms, including a specialized one for Kit, with a separate receiver and mic on adhesive to make it easy to tuck behind a lekku and onto his throat, below his Jedi robes. “I’ve got you looped into security’s channel, and they’re aware of the potential problem.”

“You’re my favorite ori’vod right now,” Rex said sincerely, handing out comms.

“I’d better be,” Ponds teased. “I just called in _so many_ favors. C’mon, Rex, Cody’s going to want to see you.”

Rex nodded, taking a moment to kiss Shel’ya’s brow and whisper his own threats to her if she so much as wiggled in the general direction of the aquarium, and let Ponds drag him away. Kit produced a brand-new coloring book and brand-new, sparkly crayons from somewhere within his robes, which Shel’ya gleefully accepted. Bacara listened to the comm chatter and did his level best to become part of the scenery.

Most of the other guests weren’t seated yet, milling around. Plenty of vode were there; Cody didn’t know how to go anywhere without half a Venator full of men at his back. Chancellor Organa had invited Cody and his officials to celebrate Oya Vode Day a little early on Coruscant as a gesture of goodwill, so the rest of the crowd were Senators and socialites, all of which set Bacara’s teeth on edge. Cody had expected his brothers to attend, and their families, and so Bacara was here, doing his level best to become one with the wallpaper and quietly hoping one of the girls would make a small scene, just enough that he’d have an excuse to leave.

The giant aquarium-shaped temptation was far, far too much of a scene.

“Shel’ya,” Bacara said after watching the crowd for a while. Shel’ya was busy coloring, tongue sticking out of her mouth as she worked. “When your ba’vodu Wolffe tries to bribe you to do something later, I’ll give you double whatever he says he’ll give you.”

That caught both Shel’ya’s _and_ Kit’s attention.

“But when he _does_ try to bribe you, you have to come tell me immediately,” he added. Kit was staring at him like he’d finally lost his mind. Bacara couldn’t believe neither of his husbands had thought about how extremely easy their daughter was to bribe.

Shel’ya considered her options carefully before offering a hand. “Deal,” she agreed, shaking on it, before returning to her coloring. Natua decided she’d had enough of being stationary and started to fuss. Bacara sighed; Kit was their best hope at _catching_ Shel’ya if she bolted.

“Kit, you have this under control?” Bacara asked as he stood, bouncing Natua gently, not particularly wanting to wear her most recent meal if he wasn’t careful.

“Yes,” Kit assured him, not even looking up from where he was coloring on the page opposite Shel’ya. Bacara smiled fondly at them before starting to walk, reassuring Natua that she was just fine. He loosened her swaddling to let her stretch her arms out and offered her one of the teething toys he always had in a pocket, which she eagerly seized and started chewing on. It wouldn’t be long before her teeth started to come in. At least he’d had more time with her than he’d had with Shel’ya before that point, because the transition from “cuddly and easy to feed” to “doesn’t want to be held and doesn’t want to eat anything but live prey they personally caught” had been a rough one. Three extra months to cuddle Natua was an absolute gift.

He roamed the large banquet hall, skirting the crowds and keeping a line of sight on Kit and Shel’ya, listening to the occasional comm chatter and talking to Natua softly as he walked. A handful of others stopped him, usually angling to see, or worse, hold Natua, whom Bacara wasn’t letting go of no matter who asked.

...Well. He did let Cody hold her, but the Vod’alor looked stressed, and if there was anyone he trusted with either of his daughters, it was Cody.

“How’s Shel’ya doing?” Cody asked.

“Valiantly resisting temptation,” Bacara replied, deeply amused. “She and Kit are coloring, last I saw, and anyone who knows her has threatened her if she gets near that aquarium.”

“Ponds had a fit when he found out the venue, but it was too late for anything to be done.” Cody looked truly apologetic.

Bacara shrugged. “Unanticipated water features are what they are. We’ll survive.” He stiffened as someone approached, immediately reclaiming Natua. Cody glanced over his shoulder to see who it was.

“Chancellor Organa,” Cody greeted politely.

“Vod’alor,” Bail replied in kind. “And… Bacara, is it?” Bacara nodded quickly. “And who’s this?”

“My newest vod’ad, Natua,” Cody replied. “But Bacara was heading back to his table, I’m afraid.”

Bacara battlesigned a quick thanks and retreated. He knew this Chancellor was a good man, and one whom Cody considered a friend, but that didn’t make Bacara any less uncomfortable in his company.

Kit was watching him with not a small bit of concern when he returned to their table. “Is everything alright?”

“Too many people,” Bacara replied simply. Natua was still contentedly gumming on the toy he’d given her at the start of their walk and seemed pleased with her current level of freedom. Her sister, on the other hand, was restless. All the new glittery crayons in the world wouldn’t keep her occupied for long.

“Aba, can we go walk around? Please? I’m bored. I’ll be good.” Kit and Bacara exchanged a look over Shel’ya’s head, neither believing her for a second. With the grim determination of a man headed to the gallows, Kit nodded, standing and offering her a hand.

“We’re going back to our rooms if you don’t behave,” Kit reminded her, and then they were gone, and a disaster timer started ticking down in the back of Bacara’s mind. He kept an eye on them, and was increasingly proud of Shel’ya for minding her manners and holding Kit’s hand. Kit’s grin was widening the more they interacted with others and Bacara wondered if Shel’ya had decided to exclusively speak Nautila as she and Sabe’ had planned. If the expressions on everyone else’s face were anything to go by, she was, and Kit was probably playing right along with her.

Shel'ya continued speaking only Nautila, even once they'd returned to the table and throughout latemeal, where her lessons with Sabe’ truly shone. Not once did she have to be reminded to use her silverware, and her table manners were perfect. She ate everything offered without commentary how it would be better raw, which was a frequent complaint that half the time drew Kit in and became A Discussion. Rex’s suggestion that those conversations be in Nautila had been the only reason Bacara hadn’t lost his mind. It was easier to stomach a debate on the merits of raw versus cooked seafood when he only caught a few words here and there.

Not even halfway through latemeal, there were speeches, and a lot of them. Every senator in attendance had “just a few words” to say. Shel’ya was coloring between courses and Kit joined in, both of them happily chatting away to each other. Natua was drifting off on Bacara’s shoulder. She’d dropped her teething toy and was dozing, waking with increasingly unhappy squeaks whenever there was a loud noise nearby. It wouldn’t be long before she started working her way up to a proper screaming fit.

“I think this is my excuse to leave,” Bacara said quietly as he stood.

“Yes, I see you’re completely heartbroken over it, too.” Kit smirked at him.

“Definitely. Shel’ya, do you want to come? We can watch a holo.”

“I want dessert.” They hadn’t gotten to that course yet. Bacara couldn’t fault her priorities.

“That’s fair.” He kissed her cheek. “Keep being good, okay?” Shel’ya nodded, still focused on her coloring. It took a bit of doing, but Bacara worked his way out of the room before Natua started to cry in earnest. Getting back to their hotel room was a relief. Here, away from the noise and busyness of the ballroom, Natua calmed down, no longer distressed and overwhelmed by everything going on around her, but she was still unhappy enough that it took nearly an hour for her to fall asleep. Bacara settled her into her travel crib and was able to relax for the first time all evening. He still had the earcomm in, half listening to the idle chatter.

“... _osik_ who’s got eyes on the _ad'ika_?”

Bacara was suddenly paying a lot more attention. There was only one ad'ika they were concerned with.

“Motion by the aquarium. Looks like… kark is that Hardcase?”

“What’s he doing?”

“Trying to get himself murdered by The Marine, he just boosted the ad'ika in there.” Bacara tapped his comm on.

“Rex, Kit, sitrep, _now_ ,” Bacara barked out.

“She was with Wolffe-” Rex started, but Bacara cut him off.

“Why did you trust _Wolffe?_ He doesn’t just let her get away with bloody murder, he’d help her hide a body,” Bacara hissed.

“Bacara, we have this under control,” Rex said firmly.

“Of surprise to no-one, Master Fisto’s got his robes off,” someone said laconically. “And now he’s in the tank too.”

“...Dammit now I owe Monnk twenty credits.”

“How did he _know?_ ”

“Do you know how much time he spent with that lunatic during the war? He wasn’t even _assigned_ to Fisto, they just kept throwing Fisto at him.” There was a chorus of “kot” over the comms.

“Oh, osik, lightsaber’s out.”

Bacara could feel his blood pressure spiking. He was halfway to the door when a message from Rex blinked on his comm.

_Rex  
  
We have it under control, Bacara. She’s just tangled up in something. Kit’ll be bringing her up in a minute.  
  
Bacara  
  
I can’t believe you trusted Wolffe with her.  
  
Rex  
  
He’s her favorite ba’vodu.  
  
Bacara  
  
Doesn’t make him trustworthy for keeping her out of trouble.  
  
Rex  
  
No, it doesn’t, and I accept responsibility for that. Kit’s got her out and is coming back to the room. I’ll do damage control with Cody. Love you._

Bacara sighed, all the fight leaving him. It was hard to be angry at someone who was being reasonable about things. He went to the ‘fresher to run a bath; who _knows_ what chemicals were in that aquarium. All they needed was for her to get a chemical burn from something in the water. It wasn’t long before Kit all but dragged a soaking-wet Shel’ya into their rooms and pointed her in Bacara’s general direction.  
  
  
Her dress was missing a chunk in two places, the telltale burns of a lightsaber making it clear that she’d been tangled enough that Kit had to cut her out. Granted, it _was_ Naboo fabric. It may have caught, but it definitely wasn’t going to tear. Shel’ya was a mess of tears and she threw herself into Bacara’s arms, arms wrapping tight around his neck. “I’m sorry, Teil, I’m sorry,” she burbled, hiccuping in her distress.  
  
  
“Shh, I know you are, I believe you,” he assured her, holding her close. “C’mon, let’s get this off and get you into the bath.” Somehow her jewelry had survived the evening but she was missing a shoe- likely in the same place as the rest of her dress- and the dress… well. The army of tailors Padme’ knew might be able to salvage it. Shel’ya was still hiccuping by the time she was in the bath, but she’d mostly stopped crying. Kit finally came into the fresher in search of a towel, noticeably calmer than when he’d walked in.  
  
  
“I know you said you’d give me double whatever ba’vodu Wolffe promised, Teil, but you weren’t there to tell,” Shel’ya said urgently. “An’ you couldn’t double it!”  
  
  
Bacara sighed. “What was it, then?”  
  
  
“He said if I really made a scene, we’d never hafta go to a fancy party again!”  
  
  
Kit muffled a snicker. “I mean,” he said, ignoring the dirty look Bacara was shooting at him, “She’s not _wrong._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando'a:
> 
> ad'ika: child, between the ages of 3-13  
> Ba'vodu: nongendered; uncle or aunt  
> buir: parent; what Shel'ya calls Rex  
> cyar'ika: darling, sweetheart  
> kot: Strength. If somehow you're new to Soft Wars, this is an injoke that started [here.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23407009)  
> ori'vod: older sibling  
> Osik: shit  
> Oya Vode day: The day the clones told the galaxy they'd had enough and defected en masse; this is celebrated annually on Concord Dawn with much, _much_ better parties than this one  
> riduur'e: spouses  
> Shebse: Asses/Assholes. Rex's cadet squad name. (Soft Wars-specific)  
> Vode: brothers; in this case, the Clones as a people  
> vod'ade: nieces/nephews (generated on the Soft Wars server)  
> vod’ad’ika: niece/nephew, the 'ika adds a fond tone  
> vod'ika: younger sibling  
> Vod'alor: Clan head of the Vode. (Soft Wars-specific)
> 
> Mando'a (JP dialect)  
> Teil: parent; what Shel'ya calls Bacara
> 
> Nautila:  
> Aba: father; what Shel'ya calls Kit


	3. The Healing Powers of a Particularly Nice Shrimp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shel'ya doesn't like winter. Winter is the _worst._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shel'ya: ~ 3 1/2 years old
> 
> As always, thanks to Shira, Tessa and Wander for the gratuitous rampant enabling and betas. :)

Shel’ya really, _really_ didn’t like winter. They were stuck in the house and any time they left she had to put on layers and layers of clothes and pinchy boots and mittens that made it hard to hold things and a hat that muffled everything. She liked the purple hat ba’vodu Wolffe had knitted her, it was pretty and lots softer than any other hats she’d tried on. But it was so hard to hear anything with it on, and if she took it off the air made her lekku hurt. She couldn’t be wet _at all_ if she went outside or it hurt even worse. She could remember it being warm, once, and Aba kept saying it would get warm again in time for her next _yom chazon_ but Shel’ya wasn’t sure she believed him.

It had been winter _forever._

She was coloring with Aba, who always was happy to color with her and would trade colors if she asked, when Teil walked into the sitting room, limping. He settled on the couch with something on his knee and looked grumpy about it. “Is Teil okay?” she asked, worried.

Aba glanced over and nodded. “Yes, he’s okay. He had surgery on that knee and sometimes it hurts when it’s cold out.”

“...so he’s got a hurted spot?” Shel’ya couldn’t remember seeing him get hurt, but he and Buir left the house a lot more than she and Aba did right now. Maybe he slipped outside. Winter meant snow and ice and Shel’ya didn’t like it because she slipped all the time, especially when she tried to run, and outside was _boring_ if she couldn’t even _run_ anywhere. Especially in pinchy boots.

“Sort of. He had an injury, and it’s healed, but still hurts sometimes.”

Shel’ya nodded decisively. “A hurted spot.” She knew how to fix hurted spots. She hopped up and went to the kitchen, knowing exactly what to do to make Teil feel better. Buir was working on a datapad at the table and had a whole stack next to him. “Buir?” she asked, patting his leg.

“Yeah?” Buir didn’t even look at her, so she patted his leg harder.

“Needa snack,” she said, making big sad tooka eyes at him. It always worked better on Buir than Aba who always said he “invented that look” so it didn’t work on him. Shel’ya wasn’t sure what that meant but she knew she got better snacks if she asked Buir or Teil.

“You just had midmeal,” her Buir said, finally looking down at her.

“Please?”

Buir sighed and got up, going to the chiller. Shel’ya grinned to herself in victory and followed.

“What do y-”

“Shrimp!” Another sigh. Buir reached for the container to get her one. “No I wanna pick,” she insisted. This step was important. Her Buir must’ve been really busy today because he scooped her up so she could take her pick without arguing about it. She seized the nicest one she saw and squirmed out of his arms with her prize.

“Shel’ya, where are you going, you know food stays in the kitchen,” he called after her.

She rushed over to where Teil was lying. “Here,” she said happily, moving the warm thing that had been on his knee off and setting the particularly nice shrimp down in its place. Teil looked very, very confused.

“...why…?”

“Aba always fixes my hurted spots with shrimps!” Shel’ya informed him seriously. “It’s magic, you put it on the hurt and then you eat it and the hurt gets better!”

Somewhere in the background her Aba was laughing and she wasn’t sure why. This was _his_ magic, after all.

“Oh,” Teil said, still confused. “I can’t eat raw shrimp, Shel’ya, remember?”

“That’s okay.” Shel’ya looked intently at the shrimp on her Teil’s knee. “Is the hurt going away? That means it’s working.”

“It’s... “ Teil must’ve been really tired, since he couldn’t come up with words. It had probably been long enough, anyway. She took the shrimp back and happily ate it for him, kissing his cheek after she was done to give him the magic back.

“There, now the hurt should be all gone.”

“Ah, yes, why don’t we go play in the pool for a while, Shel’ya?” her Aba asked, still laughing. “I hadn’t realized you would remember the healing powers of shrimp quite that well. Go put on your swimsuit, please.”

“I remember! It’s magic and works on hurted spots, Aba.”

“On new, little hurts, yes, but this is an older hurt.”

“Oh.” Shel’ya thought about it as she went to change. “What about a lobster, Aba?” she shouted from her room when it occurred to her. “Would a lobster work on a older hurted spot?”

If Aba had an answer, she couldn’t hear it over Teil laughing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando'a:  
> Buir- parent; what Shel'ya calls Rex
> 
> Mando'a, JP dialect:  
> Teil- parent; what Shel'ya calls Bacara
> 
> Nautila:  
> Aba- father; what Shel'ya calls Kit  
> yom chazon- "day of sight." The day a Nautolani child opens their eyes for the first time is considered their birthday. For further information, check out my headcanon worldbuilding [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26188885/chapters/63729445).
> 
> This story was 100% primarybufferpanel's fault, and written because I keep trying to break people's hearts and promised Spoofymcgee I'd write some fluff after chapter 14 of We Have You, We'll Keep You was 100% Not Actually Fluff as expected.


	4. A Treatise on Flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flower crowns and a warm spring day. It's the sort of day he'd only dreamed of for other people, once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to my general rampant enablers and betas, Wander and Shira!
> 
> Shel’ya: 7; cerulean blue with purple vertical stripes on her tresses and shoulders  
> Natua: 3; orange with red and gold freckles and little tress-nubs still

The sun was warm on his skin and Bacara soaked it up, enjoying the warmth after a particularly brutal winter. It was the first properly _nice_ spring day of the year where he could take the girls out to the park for a picnic. He’d staked out a picnic table overlooking a meadow that was full to bursting with life.

"Teil, I need another tie."

Bacara, statue-still from the shoulders up, held up yet another tiny hair tie from the pile he was holding. Shel'ya eagerly grabbed it and carefully tied off another braid in Bacara's beard. She grinned at her handiwork a moment before delving into the little box of assorted ribbons, beads, and barrettes she'd amassed since Tup taught her how to braid hair. She considered the box carefully, contemplating the braids she’d already completed, before rummaging around for something in particular. Her tongue poked out of the corner of her mouth in concentration. Bacara was valiantly fighting to keep a straight face.

"Sela, Sela," Natua burbled, running over as fast as her toddler legs could carry her. "Here!" She thrust another handful of mostly grass and some tiny flowers at her sister.

"Ooh get more pink ones!" Shel'ya said, delighted as she picked the flowers out of the grass and set them on the picnic table they'd claimed. "They're really pretty!" Natua nodded firmly and eagerly set off on her mission to retrieve more pink flowers. Bacara hoped they were from the meadow and not someone's garden.

"How about this one?" Shel'ya held up a gaudy gold-colored filigree bead for Bacara's inspection. "For the next braid?"

"Sure," Bacara agreed mildly. "I don't think you've used any gold yet."

"It's big enough I can put some flowers in it too," Shel'ya agreed as she set to work on another section of his beard, carefully separating out three sections and working in the bead with fingers becoming more nimble the more she practiced. "But I can just put flowers all over at the end, too. It's going to be so pretty when it's done, Teil!"

"It always is," Bacara agreed, well resigned to wearing the braids for a few days, though Shel'ya was usually gracious about letting him remove the flowers she liked to add when they started to wilt. Based on how smug Kit was about the whole thing, he had the feeling Kit was going to find her some fake flowers before long. He’d already “found” more than half of Shel’ya’s collection, supplying the gaudiest of ribbons and beads.

“Sela I got lellow!” Natua shouted from somewhere to Bacara’s right.

“Yellow’s great too! Is there any purple?” Shel’ya called back, tugging a bit too hard on his beard as she turned to look at Natua. Bacara managed to suppress a wince. He was getting used to it, which was not something he’d expected of becoming a father, though Shel’ya had been fascinated by his beard her entire life. That she’d gleefully asked Tup to teach her to braid and then immediately applied those skills to him should not have come as a surprise, and yet...

“Dunno gotta look!” Natua ran up to deposit another handful of grass and two entire flowers to the pile before darting off again. She was going to sleep marvelously tonight with all the running she was doing.

Shel’ya was about halfway through his beard- clearly she was going for _small_ braids today- but it was still early enough that she’d probably finish before Natua’s naptime, provided the younger girl didn’t just pass out somewhere in the shade from exhaustion. There were still snacks in the cooler and the weather was holding. He could almost fall asleep, were it not for Shel’ya’s less-than-stellar skill at maintaining tension on the braid without it getting painful. He was forgiving of that, given she didn’t have any hair of her own. She didn’t really understand.

“Teil!” Natua ran up, distressed. “Teil, my crown broked!” He’d made both of them flower crowns when they’d gotten to the park and Natua’s had come loose, dangling forlornly off her tress-nubs. He carefully fixed it, setting it on her head with a flourish when he’d finished.

“There you go,” Bacara replied fondly as Natua beamed up at him. Her crown of yellow and orange flowers went well with her reddish-orange skin. Shel’ya had demanded purple, as per the norm, so he’d scrounged up white and purple for her. After he’d given them both flowers, they were determined to give him plenty in return.

It was a nice, warm day, and his girls were happy, bedecked in flowers. Bacara smiled and quietly tolerated the constant tugging on his beard. Shel’ya absently hummed something while she worked and Natua darted around, shouting about the colors she was finding. This, Bacara decided, was the sort of peace he’d fought for but never expected would be something he’d see. It was more than worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando'a (JP dialect):
> 
> teil: parent; what the girls call Bacara
> 
> Natua can't quite pronounce "Shel'ya" yet. Shel'ya hates nicknames, but she does like her little sister, so she copes. Somehow. Dramatically, I'm sure.


End file.
